


Midsommar Nat

by ktbl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fingering, Gentle Sex, Kinktober 2020, Kissing, Oral Sex, Porn Without Plot, Smut, fist time, smut with feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26813764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: A somewhat-sequel to Midsommar. Hana, Brig, and some time alone.—Kinktober Day 6, prompts: first time, cunnilingus, fingering
Relationships: Brigitte Lindholm/Hana "D.Va" Song
Kudos: 55
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Midsommar Nat

“Sssh,” Brigitte interrupted Hana, pressing a finger to her lips. Silence snuck in around them. The creak and settling of the old timbers of the house and the laughter outside - the tail end of the Midsommar celebrations - became almost painfully loud. There was no sign or sound of anyone else within the house. Brigitte listened carefully; it seemed as if the sounds outside were moving away. “I think they’re gone. Or almost.”

“So everyone goes out and…” The smaller woman still had wide eyes at what Brigitte had alluded to earlier in the evening. Hana drew her knees up towards her chest, and leaned back slightly on Brigitte’s bed. The flower crown on her brow had gone askew, the white and green and scattering of pink blooms contrasting with Hana’s hair and eyes. 

“Gets naked and goes skinny dipping in the lake.” Brigitte finished with a little effort. The position angled her girlfriend delightfully, and she sucked in a breath. “But I’m pretty sure you don’t want to see all of them down to the skin.”

“No, thank you!” Hana snorted. “I mean, your friends are nice and all, and your family - but that’s a little much for a first visit, you know?” She flopped back on the bed, and the crown tumbled off to roll alongside her. “Also, they’re…“

“Old?” Brigitte raised a brow, and received a laugh in response.

“Yeah. It’s just… weird.”

“I get the idea. I mean, almost everyone out there has known me since I was a baby, and there’s a point where that just gets weird. They’ll be gone a couple of hours at least. A little time for swimming and a lot more with drinking and talking around the fire. So we have a few hours to ourselves.” Brigitte grinned broadly, and reached up to adjust the flower crown on her own head. “You said something about the flowers.”

“I did.” Hana swallowed once, her eyes glinting. “That I’d like to see you in them. And nothing else.”

“I bet we can manage that.” Brigitte reached down to pull off her shirt, and Hana held up a hand.

“Wait, no. Brig, I want to.” Hana sat up, and then rocked onto her knees, and edged slowly down to the end of the bed. “Late birthday, early Christmas, call it whatever you want.”

“I’m not a present!” Brigitte chuckled, but didn’t make any signs of leaving. Hana’s fingers brushed over the cotton shirt and then tucked themselves under the hem, pushing Brigitte’s shirt up with a single slow, methodical sweep. She let Brigitte tug it off over her head, the flower crown only briefly removed before it was resettled, slightly askew. 

Hana lowered herself to a nearly-kneeling position. She moved back on the bed, Brigitte following. Hana felt the soft presence of a pillow behind her and dropped down, Brigitte changing her position ever so slightly to straddle her, trapping the pilot’s slim thighs between her own. She felt almost daunted by the contrast of her and Hana, how easy it was to keep the smaller woman in place. She shook off the thought, and dropped both sides of her hands on the bed around Hana’s shoulders, leaning in to kiss her once more. 

They spent a long time kissing, Hana’s fingers exploring the muscle and curve of Brigitte’s shoulders, the broad span of her back, and pointedly unclipping her bra. Brigitte let out an amused huff at her girlfriend’s impudent grin, and then slid back, as if to take off the bra. She tossed it om the floor, but didn’t return to Hana’s reach, let Hana get her lips on her again.

Brigitte’s hands instead worked their way up under Hana’s shirt slowly, savoring the contact of skin on skin. Hana shuddered, muscle rippling under her skin, and arching up against Brigitte’s touch.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Brigitte looked at Hana. 

Her dark brown eyes narrowed and she shook her head against the pillow vigorously. “Don’t even think about it,” she replied, and Brigitte grinned and her hands kept sliding up. She was pacing herself, more than wanting to tease her girlfriend; Hana had been right, it really  was like Christmas and her birthday and everything good all rolled into one. 

Her roughened fingers caught on the smooth satin of Hana’s bra, and she brushed her thumbs across the satin slowly. Hana made a soft sound, almost a whine, her hands reaching down for Brigitte’s shoulders, trying to gather up her hair. Brigitte ducked, pulling back, and Hana whined again. 

“You’re just being mean,” she accused.

“Not being mean. No reason to rush. Anyway, you’ve already got me half-naked.” Brigitte pushed the fabric of Hana’s tee shirt up a little more, baring the flat plane of her stomach and the delicate curve of her ribs to view. “One of the things I was always told was to take your time surveying the situation so you can decide what the best way to handle it is.” She moved again, straddling Hana’s hips and thighs and keeping her trapped between them. ”I want to go slow, enjoy it.” The MEKA pilot was all sleek and slim, barely a scratch of healed wounds. The bra, Brigitte noticed absentmindedly, was pink with half the cups covered in lace. Brigitte dropped her head, kissing the soft curve of one and then the other, and then the valley between them. 

Hana’s hands tangled in Brigitte’s hair and she bucked up against her girlfriend in response. A groan of pleasure tore itself from Hana’s throat, and Brigitte smiled against the smooth skin in front of her. This was going to be fun. She rubbed her hands over the pink satin and lace, watching the red flush go from Hana’s cheeks down her neck and chest. 

“You’re so pretty,” Brigitte said, lifting her face for a moment. “You make me think of a doll. Until you start going all raise-my-AMPs and gamerspeak.” She watched the red go darker, and then Hana grabbed her and kissed her again. It was all teeth and tongues and still messy as they figured out how they fit together, Hana lost for words but not wanting Brigitte to feel unappreciated. 

“So what kind of doll would do  that ?” Hana said as they pulled apart. “And it’s APMs, anyway.”

Brigitte winked and wriggled her eyebrows, and both of them laughed. Hana sat up, just enough to pull her shirt off, and them Brigitte bent her head back down to the leggy woman sprawled on her bed. 

“If I didn’t think they’d be back in just a couple of hours, I’d take more time,” she muttered half to herself, and tucked her head into the side of Hana’s neck, breathing her in. She smelled right, like the sunshine and strawberries and even a little bit of smoke from the campfire outside, and that indescribably Hana smell that was intoxicating. 

“Well, there’s always a round two. And three.” Hana grinned impishly and it was Brigitte’s turn to flush, cheeks going warm and red.

She peppered Hana’s shoulders with kisses, nudging the bra straps down to either side. She chuckled once as she realized it was a front-closing bra, and unhooked it almost reverently, fingers flicking the cups away to bare Hana’s breasts. Smaller than her own, the nipples and areolae darker, but pert and  perfect and before she realized it, Brigitte was brushing them with her fingers, drawing one nipple into her mouth. Hana whined beneath her, squirming and inhaling sharply. Brigitte felt the nipple furl tighter against her tongue and the soft, encouraging squeaks from Hana. 

Brigitte switched her attentions, trailing her tongue across Hana’s chest and blowing air across the wet path. The smaller woman bucked up beneath her, moaning softly. Thank God for reading and the internet, because everything she’d read about - everything she’d learned - was working the way she’d hoped.

One of Hana’s hands crept up and ever so gently brushed aside Brigitte’s flower crown. The wreath tumbled off somewhere and Hana’s hand threaded into Brigitte’s hair. It was surprisingly strong and held Brigitte down in place for a moment, sealing her mouth against Hana’s nipple. That was a good sign, and Brigitte redoubled her attention. She tugged with her fingers on one nipple and very gently with her teeth on the other. Hana squirmed, breath gone sharp and stuttering. Taking pity on her, Brigitte pulled her mouth away. She sat up, grinning.

“You - you are  evil ,” Hana swore breathlessly. Her eyes were dark and wide, and Brigitte could only see a thin brown ring of iris around the dark black of her pupils. Hana scrambled backwards, and then shuffled slightly sideways. “You. Down. Bed. Now.”

“Lose your words?” Brigitte drew herself up with a grin. Hana replied in a string of Korean that sounded way too cheerful for the sort of swearing it probably was. Brigitte leaned forward and kissed her, cupping Hana’s face between her hands. Brigitte’s heart slowed, pounding a little less, and when they came up for air she stretched out on the bed beside Hana.

Somehow, lying flat down, Hana seemed much bigger. She beamed, dark hair falling in a sheet around them, and kissed her way down Brigitte’s chest, dropping kisses around the curves of her breasts and the planes of stomach. Hana seemed to be loving the cut muscle that took Brigitte hours of work - especially when sweets were on offer. She worked her way down, tongue trailing fire down Brigitte’s skin. She whined and moaned, reaching for Hana’s head and finding the smaller woman bat her away, pinning her hands down with unexpected strength. 

That was  nice . 

Brigitte had clearly underestimated Hana’s determination. She shouldn’t have; Hana was a gaming champion, always pushing herself to be better, stronger, faster. She was a MEKA pilot who took her life into her own hands to fight omnics. 

And now it looked like she was determined to make Brigitte lose all function and self-control. Brigitte looked across at her and saw Hana’s dark eyes gleaming with mischief. She felt thumbs hook into her loose shorts, and then her underwear and pull them both down and Brigitte wriggled them off the rest of the way, kicking them onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. Hana dove between Brigitte’s legs like she was settling into Tokki, hands tucking around Brigitte’s thighs and settling on the curves of muscle like they belonged there.

“Hana, are-“

“I have been waiting to do this  forever , Brigitte Lindholm, ever since I saw that look on your face eating pastries in Busan. I wanted to know if I could make you make that face. I’m about to find out.”

“What one?”

Hana grinned. “I’ll know it when I see it.” 

Hana stopped talking then, pressing a kiss low on the inside of Brigitte’s left thigh, and then a matching one on the right, ever so slightly higher. She worked her way in an alternating ladder up her girlfriend’s legs, coming ever closer to the thatch of dark curls and sensitive skin between them. With every kiss, Brigitte writhed, her fingers gliding along Hana’s bare shoulder to her neck and into her hair and down again. Hana spared a glance, saw one hand fisted in the blankets, and she grinned to herself as she shifted position. Where her fingers had been before, playing coyly across Brigitte’s labia, Hana placed another kiss, and felt Brigitte shudder full-bodied beneath her. 

“Hana-“

“Mmphm.” Noncommittal, she kissed again, a trail from bottom to top, the last one delicate and featherlight on her clit. 

Brigitte moaned, the sound coming from low in her throat, and her fingers twisted into Hana’s hair. She nibbled gently at her girlfriend, tugging ever-so-slightly with teeth on her labia, watching the folds darken as blood filled them, making them more and more sensitive. She traced hangul shapes with her tongue, circles and dashes, long lines and angles, and Brigitte was sure she had to be able to feel her get slicker as she worked. If Hana wasn’t enjoying this, she sure  seemed like she was - especially when she drew a perfect O around Brigitte’s clit, almost but not quite touching the sensitive bud of nerves. She couldn’t keep the needy whine at bay.

“Hanaaaa,” she cried out, low and throaty, hips arching up as Hana pulled back. Her girlfriend grinned broadly, eyes sparkling, face shining wet in the dimmed bedroom light. “Come here,” Brigitte pled, tugging gently at Hana’s hair to bring her up and kiss her, but Hana resisted. 

“No.” Her voice was firm, but she kissed the inside of Brigitte’s thigh as if in apology. “I’m having too much fun.” She went back to doing things with her tongue that Brigitte had never imagined possible, the tip of her tongue, the flat blade of it, curling it and seeming to be five places at once. She couldn’t help it; her thighs started to rise up, a rush of movement that Hana had to push away.

“Sorry,” Brigitte apologized breathlessly.

“I’m not.” Hana grinned again. “I like that. It means you like  this . Now I’ve got something I really think you’ll like.” She plunged back down between Brigitte’s legs, hunting out the spots that made her squeak and stammer, the ones that led to twitching hips and the hot feeling in her core pulsing with an increasing urgency. Hana managed something with her fingers tucking inside Brigitte at the same time as she closed her mouth around her clit and sucked and flicked at it with her tongue, and Brigitte’s ability to think disappeared entirely in a bright explosion of ecstasy.

When she came back to herself what had to be hours later, but somehow seemed to only be moments, the way Hana was looking, Brigitte sat up. Her muscles still trembled, little aftershocks of pleasure pulsing through her. She reached down and pulled Hana up to her lap, tucking the smaller woman into her arms, cradling her close, trying to curl around her.

“Was it - was it okay?” Hana’s voice seemed quieter, a little worried, and Brigitte touched their foreheads together and nodded carefully. 

“It was good, Hana. Better than good.” Her voice caught, and she pressed a kiss to Hana’s nose, and then her lips, trying to take the worry out of those luminous dark eyes. “I didn’t - I like you, a lot, but I haven’t exactly done that much.”

“That, or  that ?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve been with,” Brigitte said in a rush, “and I really like you and that’s the first time anybody but me has been able to do that.” She’d been able to climax herself, find pleasure in fingers or toys, but nobody else had done it. She looked away from Hana’s face, not sure what reaction she would have, and afraid to know. Fingers crept up to Brigitte’s hairline, stroking gently along her ear and down to her jaw and chin.

“I guess I have a little more experience in that than you do,” Hana teased with a wink, “but I’m willing to help you practice.” 

“Thanks,” Brigitte said, chuckling softly. “Now I’m jealous of everyone else you’ve been with.”

“Brig!” Hana’s eyes went wide and she looked devastated.“It was - it was only a-“ 

At her words and obvious dismay, every part of Brigitte seized up, and then crumbled away, her heart stopping in place. 

“Hana, no! Not like that,” Brigitte rushed to reassure her, cradling her more closely, burying her lips against Hana’s sleek cap of hair. “I don’t care if it’s one girl or an entire volleyball team, it’s none of my business. I suppose I should be grateful,” she added, holding Hana close enough to feel the racing of her heart. “I really don’t care who you’ve been with before me, because you’re with me right now.” She was careful about her phrasing, trying to reassure the clearly nervous woman in her lap. One hand trailed down and rested on Hana’s bare thigh, and she could feel a tremor run through Hana at the touch. 

“Mine,” Hana said firmly, wrapping her arms around Brigitte and turning her face into her neck. 

“All yours,” Brigitte confirmed, and her hand slid down further, almost tentatively. Hana widened herself on Brigitte’s lap, spreading her legs out, and nipping gently at Brigitte’s throat. Brigitte slid her hand down over Hana’s mound, the pink satin and lace underwear that matched the long-discarded bra. The fabric was damp with her arousal, and Brigitte brushed her fingers along it, watching Hana’s face intently. Brigitte blinked and then the underwear was  gone , like it had been teleported right off, and they chuckled, a little weakly, at it. 

“You sure, Hana? I mean… I get it if what I said, if you don’t-“

“Brigitte Lindholm, if you do not put your hand back where it was right now, I swear-“ and she lapsed into a string of incomprehensible Korean that Brigitte could only assume was a threat.

“I’ve got you, Hana.” She grinned and leaned forward, kissing her again, arm sliding around her body, squeezing gently at one breast. “Relax.” She mouthed at the skin along Hana’s neck, and Brigitte’s fingers resumed their play between her thighs. Hana’s body twitched, tremors coursing through it, and she slumped against Brigitte’s supporting and body. Her face tightened, and almost as if she were under strain. Brigitte worked one finger in, carefully; Hana’s slender grace fit in her mech because she was so small, and Brigitte was wracked with worry at hurting her.

“I won’t break,” the pilot said breathily, as if she’d read Brigitte’s mind. “I want - Brig,  please , just - I want -“

“I’ve got you,” Brigitte repeated, playing her fingers along Hana’s slit and pressing and flicking at her clit, the one finger inside her curling and twisting. Hana’s body clung to the first knuckle, then the second, as Brigitte fluttered her fingers. 

God, Hana was pretty like this, eyes squished shut and pink and her mouth pressed in a line to keep from yelling. Brigitte  wanted  her to yell, wanted to make her call out and lose her mind. She nuzzled into Hana’s hair again, gently squeezing one breast and rolling a nipple between her fingers. She could feel Hana’s hips begin to drive down on her fingers, pushing against her thumb. Brigitte could her her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she just wanted to watch Hana come apart under her fingers. 

“Come on, Hana, please,” Brigitte urged, a moment of her own hesitation - was there something  wrong with her? Was she doing this wrong? “What do I need?”

“Kiss me,” Hana managed, almost whining, and Brigitte sealed her mouth to hers. It was like patting your head and rubbing your belly, with fingers on both hands and her tongue in her girlfriend’s mouth, but it was what Hana asked for, what she wanted, and Brigitte was not going to deny her anything.

Hana cried out against Brigitte’s mouth, loud and hot and high-pitched, her body shaking and her muscles clenching around Brigitte’s fingers. She shook in the throes of an orgasm and Brigitte held her, hands going gentle and careful. Hana shook and trembled once more, and curled herself up against Brigitte, flush and hot to the touch, little moans working their way out of her lips as she buried her face against Brigitte’s chest.

“Are you - Hana, are you  okay ?”

“Fully operational,” she said into Brigitte’s chest. “One for the highlight reel.”

“Really? You went there  now? ” Brigitte laughed. “The life I live, dating D.Va.”

“Just Hana, now. With you, just Hana.”


End file.
